


The First (and final) Sacrament of Sebastian Michaelis

by pearypie



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Humor, and he ends up getting dragged to the celestial court to get redeemed, based on a post made by the magnificent dorkshadows, where sebastian's selfishness totally backfires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 21:11:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15227973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearypie/pseuds/pearypie
Summary: Where Sebastian gambles away everything in a desperate bid to defeat Undertaker and keep OC's soul for himself.It backfires.Badly.Or, in the words of dorkshadows:It’d be the equivalent of him throwing everything he has onto the table, in a totally selfish gamble, and losing so badly his retirement savings are converted into a charity.I can already see the epilogue-Lizzie: “He sacrificed himself for all of us.”Sebastian’s ghost in the deepest layer of hell: “Are you high!? I don’t even like any of you!!!!!”





	The First (and final) Sacrament of Sebastian Michaelis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Idonquixote](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idonquixote/gifts).



> I'm just gonna refer to OC as Ciel. 
> 
> I figured it'd sound kinda weird to have angels using "OC" every time they referred to Sebastian's charge lol

Piccadilly Joe stuck another cigarette in his mouth, exhaled a plume of smoke, and quickly put the cancer-stick out after Gabriel glared.

“Sorry boss.” He chuckled awkwardly.

“Just…record the trial, Joseph.” He sighed and in the blink of an eye, both the smartly dressed angel in white and his assistant—the Good Spirit Joseph—appeared at the front of the Celestial Court.

“Dang boss,” Piccadilly Joe whistled. “I ain’t never seen a real demon before but don’t he look, I dunno… _too_ human?”

“That’s because he’s been bound in human form,” the senior seraph replied smoothly, snapping his fingers so the luminous white wings on his back temporarily folded in, thus allowing him to sit down. “Diadora insisted it would be better to present the beast in this form than, say, vaporous smoke or any other inane imaginings of the human mind.”

“Huh.”

Gabriel glanced down to see the younger angel-in-training staring wide-eyed at the demon in human form. _Still dressed in his butler’s garb._ Gabriel sneered derisively. He honestly couldn’t comprehend _why_ Diadora thought that creature would be worthy of redemption but two weeks ago she'd returned to the Celestial Plane with tears in her eyes, all but sobbing that the purity of a demon's soul could override even the deepest pits of hell. It’d taken seven days of wrangling before Michael had reluctantly agreed to try the soul of “Sebastian Michaelis” (his true name, the name unable to be pronounced by human tongue, was a sight to behold—grotesque and famished, much like the beast himself).

In Gabriel’s mind, the trial would be a farce. They hadn’t had a purified demon in _eons_ and this low-level, smarmy-faced demon-in-a-suit was certainly no exception.

“Glorious day to witness the redemption of a sinner’s soul is it not?” A gentle, ocean-wave voice inquired delightedly as Gabriel looked up. There, standing before him, was Jegudiel, an archangel and the bearer of god’s merciful love. In one hand he held a crown and the other, a searing golden whip. _Rewards for the righteous, punishment for the sinners._

“Hello Jegudiel.” He greeted reluctantly, making room on the bench for his old friend. (The act would've been a deal easier had Jegudiel not insisted on wearing his celestial robes _everywhere_ but the man was both stuffy and sentimental. “After all, these robes were a gift from Barachiel! I can’t let his handiwork go to waste!”)

(Never mind that Barachiel had 496,000 ministering angels who did the sewing _for_ him but…to each their own.)

Gabriel crossed his arms. “What’s your honest opinion on this case?”

“Hm?” Jegudiel leaned over, nearly impaling Gabriel in the eye with that crown of his. “This trial? Oh I’d say his chances are quite high.” The archangel nodded. “After all, it’s not everyday we get called to court is it?”

That was true, Gabriel admitted, but there just _had_ to be another explanation. There had to be.

He’d seen Michaelis’s file.

It was nothing impressive, just a scattered collection of half-formed thoughts and petty torments he’d committed out of sheer boredom—

“My gracious! It looks like Diadora darling is pulling out all the stops!” Jegudiel exclaimed excitedly. “Just look Gabriel, she’s brought out the powerpoint projector!”

Gabriel’s brow twitched and, against his better judgement, he turned around to see Diadora—the angel of reciprocated love and death—trotting to the front of the courthouse, projector, slides, and remote in hand. She was smiling madly at the young demon who shrunk from her gaze, looking more terrified of his celestial representative than he did of the judge or jury. 

“I think she borrowed that from the Shinigami Realm.” A voice piped in.

Jegudiel, Gabriel, and Piccadilly Joe turned to see Hadraniel, all aglow with solemn glory, sitting there, ambrosia in hand.

Piccadilly Joe blinked. “Er, sire…aren’t you supposed to be, you know, um, guarding the second gate to heaven, my lord?”

Hadraniel, a handsome but grave figure, stuck a hand into his bag of ambrosia and shook his head, serious and dead-eyed as ever. “No. They gave me a day off.”

Piccadilly Joe whistled in amazement. “Wow. When was the last time they did that?”

“When I was reprimanded by god and became a guide to Moses a few millennium ago.”

Before Piccadilly Joe could speak again, the lights in the court house/theater dimmed and the voice of Sachiel could be heard. “Will everyone present please take their seats?” The cherubim asked politely over the loudspeaker. “Everyone, please take your seats. Court case #94803820 is about to commence. Standing before the Celestial Tribunal is Subject A-9881 who has taken on the name Sebastian Michaelis. The name Sebastian Michaelis will be used for the remainder of this trial at the request of his representative, the angel of love and death Diadora—oh!” Sachiel lowered his voice. “I’ve still got your MacBook in my room—wonderful piece of technology, just excellent really—I can return it to you after the trial if you’re not busy?”

Gabriel could see Diadora make some sort of “anytime it’s convenient for you" hand motion. 

Beside him, Jegudiel sighed. “I really wish the young cherubs would stop dimension hopping like that. It’s bad enough when the Reapers do it but their job is punishment enough so we give them a little leeway. Having angels dimension hop is just bad taste.”

“Technically all Diadora did was time-skip.” Hadraniel corrected gravely. “Ambrosia?” He offered.

Jegudiel and Piccadilly Joe each took a handful.

Gabriel refrained.

 

* * *

 

Diadora started up the powerpoint.

“Don’t you think this is a little excessive?” Gabriel grumbled. “A powerpoint? What’s he done that’s so great that it warrants a _powerpoint?_ ”

Jegudiel shrugged, nearly stabbing Gabriel with his crown again. “Who’s to say? After all, Diadora sang his praises like none other. He must truly be a creature of valor and inherent goodness.”

Overhead, the demon whimpered, as if the very words themselves were poison to his ears.

The expression made Gabriel curious and when he became curious he…well, it wouldn’t hurt to take just a _tiny_ peek into the demon’s head now would it?

Closing his eyes, he summoned the saintly power of telepathic sight before he heard…sobbing?

 _“By all creation, I most certainly am_ ** _not_** _good! I am a creature of the vilest sin and worst disgrace. I am vengeful, spiteful, cold, and merciless—I consumed the soul of a 10 year old child! Where on earth—? Why am I even_ ** _here_** _?”_ The voice cried out in despair. _“I have psychologically scarred and tormented a boy no older than 13. I have made him feel wrath, sadism, anger, and guilt. I have killed without mercy and I seek to revel in the world’s sin for as long as I am able. For god’s sake, I’m_ ** _evil_** _! I’m evil, I’m evil, I’m evil! Come_ ** _on_** _!”_ The last words sounded more like the pitiful cries of a 14 year old girl but Gabriel said nothing.

It was interesting. All very interesting.

 

* * *

 

“Ladies and gentlemen of the court,” Diadora began with a tremor in her voice, “I am here to present before you a man. Not a demon, no! A _man._ A man who has taken it upon himself to singlehandedly raised an orphaned and troubled child. A man who taught this orphaned boy the life skills he would need to uphold his family name. A man who risked life and limb again and again in a desperate bid to protect and shield this poor, orphaned boy. A man who took a death scythe to the chest not once but _twice._ Who battled the undead in a sinking ship in the middle of the Atlantic while being attacked by three Reapers and hostile corpses. A man who—even then—put the life of an orphan ahead of himself.” She brushed aside a tear.

Behind her, Sebastian shook his head frantically, looking more and more horrified as she continued to speak.

“This is a man who has shed his demonic exterior to take on human form. And not just any human form! But the form of that orphan’s dead father. And he did it…” she turned dramatically to the jury, “out of love.”

“Are you high?!” Sebastian finally choked out, drawing everyone’s attention towards him at long last. “I only took on the form of his dead father to _torment_ him! I wanted to make sure he never forgot the face of his murdered father! It was to remind him of the cruel irony of life—that his father died but he got to live, this was so he could remember the blood on his hands and—“

“Do you see how educational and self-sacrificing this man is?” Diadora cried. “He took on the form of an orphaned boy’s father to remind that child that, yes! His father is still with him! That his father is watching over him! And Mr. Michaelis even used this opportunity to teach that young boy some valuable life lessons. Truly, how many parents are there in the world who would be willing to tell their children such uncomfortable truths? But Mr. Michaelis did! He did it so his adopted son could learn and grow! That he could one day achieve greatness!”

“Adopted son—? For goodness sake, I was his goddamn demon butler!”

“There, you see!” Diadora pointed back at Sebastian. “He wasn’t even Ciel Phantomhive’s father but he cared for the boy as a father would his son!”

“No! I psychologically tormented him and—“

“And do you see how freely he admits to his faults?” Diadora continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “That, ladies and gentlemen, is something not even the greatest of men can do but here he is! A demon! A man! And he admits his mistakes freely and without prompt! Praise be!" She shouted. "Praise be!" 

The jury was now tearing up. A few of the older angels took hankies out of their purses and dabbed their wet cheeks.

Sebastian was flabbergasted. “I…I burned down an orphanage full of lobotomized children—!” He tried again.

Suddenly he found Diadora face to face with him, his white-gloved hands clutched in her fiery grip. She had tears in her eyes as she patted his shoulder. “I can only imagine how traumatized you must have been,” she sobbed, “I know you only did it on your master’s orders. You, who cared for your master so much that you obeyed his orders even at the expense of your own morality!” She wailed dramatically so the entire court—and the judge—could hear her. “You truly are an exceptional demonic being!”

Sebastian choked on his own saliva and went into a coughing fit.

The judge banged on his gavel.

“Fifteen minute recess.” He declared. “And someone bring some water for this poor fellow—he’s coughing like a madman.”

Sebastian had just enough time to look up before a swarm of elderly angels came his way, throwing linen handkerchiefs and bottles of water at his head. “You poor thing!” They cried. “Born a demon but possessing the heart of an angel! You poor, poor thing!”

 

* * *

 

The trial resumed.

This time, Diadora had the powerpoint up and running.

“And here is Mr. Michaelis cleaning Phantomhive Manor with a toothbrush because he was very concerned about his master’s health. His master had asthma so—“

“I was cleaning the manor with a toothbrush because my sadistic little _brat_ of an employer ordered me to! I didn’t even _know_ he had asthma then!”

“He didn’t even know his master had asthma and cleaned the entire mansion with a toothbrush anyway! Truly ladies and gentleman, that is an act of love beyond measure!” She clicked the remote. “And here is a picture of Mr. Michaelis feeding stray cats. A true humanitarian!”

“Cats are the only things worth caring about! Humanity is a wretched, stinking, cesspool of vice and hypocrisy! I hate humanity!” He all but screamed.

Silence in the courtroom.

Sebastian was breathing heavily. _Good,_ he thought, _they’ve finally realized what a grave mistake they’ve made in thinking_ ** _I_** _, a demon lord of the highest caliber, could be redeemed in this_ ** _farce_** _of a court trial—_

A towering angel (well over 10 ft) carrying a longsword the size a pool table made his way over to Sebastian. In his other hand he carried a ball of burning fire. 

The demon’s face paled as Diadora stepped aside with a courteous bow towards the gigantic angel. 

 _…Perhaps,_  he considered faintly, _I didn’t think my speech through..._

The angel stood in front of him, eyes boring holes into Sebastian’s skull. His face was like granite, betraying no emotion whatsoever and for some reason, Sebastian could have sworn the room just went up 500 degrees. He could smell smoke.

Looking down, he saw that his jacket was on fire.

“Your words. Did you mean what you said?” The angel’s voice sounded like an avalanche of terror. An avalanche that had crashed entirely onto Sebastian’s shoulders.

But he couldn’t back down now. Judas would never let him into the 9th circle of Hell if he took the coward’s way out now.

Sebastian cleared his throat, looking the angel right in the eye. “Yes, I did. In fact, I still do.” He held his head high, fully prepared to be impaled with the longsword when suddenly—

The angel burst into frantic tears. “Behold!” His thunderous voice boomed. “Another creature who shares my philosophy! Come brethren! We must work harder and with more diligence if we are to save the human race! We must be patient and forgiving for while the humans live in, as Mr. Michaelis proclaimed, a cesspool of vice and hypocrisy, they are still capable of infinite good! Why, just one human boy was able to bring forth the true humanity in this demon here! Now I,” the angel continued, “Uriel—the archangel of Sacrament, poetry, and light, do declare my unyielding support for the man known as Sebastian Michaelis!”

Sebastian fainted.

 

* * *

 

When he awoke, he was still in the courtroom though now, it was all but empty save one man—or, angel. Some sort of angelic being. 

He had blond hair, fair skin, and was dressed in a pristine white suit. The angel was leaning by one of the cathedral-style windows, book in hand.

Sebastian rose.

The angel’s gaze flicked over to him. “Ah, you’re awake now.”

“Indeed.” Sebastian smoothed out his rumpled suit vest. “I apologize for any inconvenience I might have caused—“ he began before realizing that _wait,_ he didn’t _work_ for Ciel Phantomhive anymore. He was no longer bound to the contract. He was no longer bound to be courteous or polite or _human._ “If that is all,” Sebastian’s voice turned six degrees cold. “I shall take my leave.”

“No you won’t.” The angel continued mildly, looking more than a little amused. “You’re going the wrong way.”

Sebastian arched a brow. “Hell is down below.”

“Yes,” the angel nodded, “but the Rooms of Redemption are this way.” He pointed east. “You’ll have to be cleaned and purified before we start your training.”

“My…training?”

“Diadora is convinced you’ll earn a halo and wings in a thousand years or less but I wouldn’t put too much stock in it. Even with Uriel’s backing, you’ll have to wait at least five thousand years more.”

“Halo?” Sebastian repeated faintly. “Wings? I’m afraid I don’t understand, are you suggesting,” he gave a slight chuckle, “that I am to be…redeemed?”

The angel looked at him impassively. “Yes.”

“But…how?” His voice took on a more frantic edge as he glanced around the empty courtroom. “I don’t even recall a judgement being made—“

“You fainted after Uriel declared his support for you. But fret not,” the angel approached him, “Judge Michael declared you worthy of a preliminary examination of possible purity. Pass that examination and you’ll be in the running for your wings and halo.”

“I don’t _want_ a wings and halo!” He cried in horror.

The angel gave him a sympathetic look. “I can understand your displeasure. It's rather old fashioned but,” he shrugged, “it _is_ the standard angelic uniform. We’re trying to get the Regalia Committee to make a few updates but we’ve always been a few centuries behind the fashion scene.”

“But…this  _can’t_ be! I…I _ate_ a ten year old’s soul! I tried to eat his twin brother’s soul! I purposely spent over three years _tainting_ his soul! I—“

“My god.” The angel mused. “You really do have a martyr’s complex don’t you?”

“I— _what?_ ”

“You committed all those acts and then sacrificed yourself for the boy.” The angel reminded him. “In the final battle with the Undertaker, you sacrificed yourself to ensure your master's safety and future livelihood. That’s why Diadora offered to sponsor your Road to Redemption.”

“I only did that because I wanted the brat’s soul for myself! So I could consume it! Eat it! _Devour it—_ this must be some misunderstanding. I am selfish beyond repentance,” he tried. “There is no judge on earth or heaven who would ever consider me worthy of redemption.”

“Yes, but in the end you said so yourself—you had nothing to gain but Ciel Phantomhive’s soul. Your sacrifice ensured you would never have it.” The angel spoke slowly so that every word was like a knife to Sebastian’s carotid artery. “You are one of the few demons who have been raised to heaven. Congratulations.” He smiled. “Oh, and I’m Gabriel. God’s Holy Messenger. Lovely to meet you.” He held out his hand.

Sebastian fainted.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you dorkshadows for making this post in the first place. It is pure GOLD. 
> 
> All the best, 
> 
> Peary (AKA, mod Nina)


End file.
